


Let Me Give My Love To Your Heart

by skiestintedorange



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: And Greg needs to learn how to confess his feelings properly, Autistic Bill Dewey, Bill Dewey is dense, Bisexual Character, But free from scandals, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiestintedorange/pseuds/skiestintedorange
Summary: It wasn't like Dewey had a bunch of admirers (okay, he had zero), politicians generally do not, unless you are one of the frontrunners for the Presidential race and everyone and their families are trying to get as close to the fame and history makers as they can. Dewey had come to terms with that relatively well, even if it meant no kisses from a hot mom who saved the world, speaking truthfully, on a daily basis. It was just how things were meant to be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing M/M slash and comed, lemme know what you think. Some shameless fluff to distract us from the anxiety of these past days and the future momentarily. Will have a second chapter, possibly more.

It wasn't like Dewey had a bunch of admirers (okay, he had zero), politicians generally do not, unless you are one of the frontrunners for the Presidential race and everyone and their families are trying to get as close to the fame and history makers as they can. Dewey had come to terms with that relatively well, even if it meant no kisses from a hot mom who saved the world, speaking truthfully, on a daily basis. It was just how things were meant to be. He sighed sadly.

  
So it came as a rather large shock when on Monday he entered his office, ah, his beautiful, clean office, free of scandals and scum (not like _other certain cities mayors,_ ahem), to see ... a letter on his desk. A big letter, at that. A suspiciously BIG letter and it the envelope... was pink? _Am I fired,_ he thought, horrified, _can I even be **fired?**_ Maybe he hadn't paid something on time and was in trouble? Both possibilities were equally terrifying as he had striven to keep his records pure of trouble in case he ever got caught doing so-- ahem, he had striven to be as honest and trustworthy as possible, for the citizens sake. No other reason. Mhmm. That was it.

  
He slowly and carefully, in case this was being filmed by the FBI or CIA or PR (political rivals, he shuddered), approached his desk. With a shaking hand, he reached out and lifted it up. He drew it close to his face and frowned. It smelled like... soap? Not just soap, no, but the kind you wash your car with. Now that was strange. Why should it smell like that? _Might be the scented kind of envelope, some people have what the young folks call a "kink" for that,_ he thought, shaking his head, _some people are **weird.**_

  
He licked his lips before opening it, praying to the god of Capitalism and civil obedience that it was nothing important. He pulled out the paper- wait, no, a ... card? A card with a glittery black guitar front with a bunch of purple and blue hearts? Was this a Valentine's day card? He knew the day was today, had been forced to endure hearing his secretary chattering to her wife at lunch, been reminded of his lonely life as he sat by himself and ate lunch alone. But who would send him a card? His ex-wife didn't even call him, so she was out, sadly as well as the beautiful Pearl. Maybe it was a joke? His son might have pulled a prank on him. He shook his head. His son would never do something so cruel or hurtful.

  
That left his mind blank. No one else would send him a card like this. He had no admirers, at least, no romantic ones. _Which is depressing to admit_ , he thought, slouching.

He scanned the words, confusion settling over his mind as he read. The handwriting was nearly ineligible, so messy was the writers cursive writing, the words blending together. He squinted and leaned closer to the card, til the brim of his nose touched the card. He winced at the feel of the rough paper against his nose, the strong smell of soap overtaking his senses, the smell made him a bit queasy the more he smelt it. He had always hated the smell of soaps, shampoos and laundry. The smells were always too powerful for him and made him sick, regardless of whatever the scent was. He pulled away from the card, his nose scrunched up, trying to breath from his mouth, as to not smell it. But it was too late, the scent had found it's way into his mouth and flavored it a disgustingly soapy flavor. He gagged and sat the letter on top of some papers ( _neatly stacked papers, mind you, completely clean papers, no illegal activities on them._ )

His eyebrows furrowed, he walked around his desk, pulled out his chair and sat down. He stared at his desk, his beautifully maintained and polished mahogany desk where he could make out some of his reflection, and went over what he had made out of the writing in his head.

" _I was told that kids these days did these kinds of things and I gotta admit, it's easier to confess this way. Anyway, you're single, I'm single and I'm, uh, now super rich. I'm just a fun loving guy with a van, who hopes he can drive it into your heart? If you figure out who I am, let's meet this **Friday at the beach at 5 PM**. - **Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart**_ "

It didn't sound like a joke and most of all, his face flushed bright red at the realization, it was written by a _man._ Bill would be lying if he said he had never thought of men like that. He had since a teenager and he went to prom with Eric Walker, a short and chubby friend, who he had hoped would catch on that it was a romantic request, but he hadn't. Bill had stood alone all night while Eric danced with his future wife, drinking fruit punch that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had also looked at nude photos of men, (whilst at home), and photos that were from his ex-wife's possessions that she had left behind in their messy divorce.

But... to date another man, to actually go through with it?

Could he?

Could he handle possibly being rejected if the admirer was just kidding?

What if he was stood up or what if this was just some cruel prank?

He bit his lower lip.


End file.
